Burning and Consumed
by Hades'Queen
Summary: Arya was not Sansa, and the Hound was not Gendry; but what happens when these two have no choice but to turn to each other. Arya/Hound, One-shot. Rated for violence and adult content. Mentions of Arya/Gendry and San/San.


**Disclaimer: **Characters and the world of ASOIF belong to George R. R. Martin. Also, song that is the inspiration for this fic is by Eminem, 'Love the Way You Lie'. I won't feature the whole song, only snippets that fit with the story.

**A/n: **This is my first attempt at a ASOIF fanfic, so please be gentle; also I am still reading through 'A Fear of Crows' so forgive any inaccuracies. Arya is one of my favorite characters and I love the idea with her with Gendry, or with Jaqen. But I've read a story of her with the Hound and I just thought that this song would be perfect for them.

**Summary:** Arya was not Sansa, and the Hound was not Gendry; but what happens when these two have no choice but to turn to each other. Arya/Hound, One-shot. Rated for violence and adult content. Mentions of Arya/Gendry and San/San.

**Burning and Consumed**

Arya was no lady. She wasn't sure how much she had said that in her childhood. Too many times to count. But that was ok. Because the Hound was no knight.

Arya smiled bitterly as she lay and stared up through the canopy of leaves and tried to peak at the stars beyond. Maybe that was the reason Sansa didn't want him, because he was nothing like the knights in her beloved songs.

_I can't tell you what it really is, I can only tell what it feels like_

_And right now there's a steel knife in my windpipe_

_I can't breathe, but I still fight when I can fight_

But the Hound wanted Snasa. He'd always want her, and that's what hurt. It cut deeper than any knife; than any sword. A pain so unbearable, that she couldn't breathe. Arya knew a lot about pain, and she knew nothing hurt so much as heartache.

She felt that she should be used to that... to people preferring Sansa. She was just the other Stark girl, she'd always been just the other Stark girl. She couldn't remember all the times she had been reprimanded by Septa Mordane about being unlady-like. But she didn't care about what the Septa thought. But she did care about what her mother thought, and even more what her father thought. And it had hurt even deeper to hear those words from them; 'Why can't you be more like Sansa'.

She couldn't remember how many times she'd hated Sansa as a child. But that was just childish hate. More bitterness and resentment than anything. Now, at nine-and-ten, she knew what real hate was. And she didn't hate Sansa. She loved her sister. Always had, always would.

As the Hound aptly called her, Sansa was a little bird. Though she was tall, she was the sweetest thing. So innocent in her heart, despite the trials and horrors she had seen. And what was Arya? The she-wolf. Or wolf-bitch, as the Hound called her when he was pissed.

Sighing, Arya got to her feet and silently came out from the forrest and headed towards the inn to find that big idiot.

_High off of love, drunk from my hate_

_...I suffocate, and right before I'm about to drown she resuscitates me_

_She fuckin' hates me, and I love it_

The girl was pretty, for a tavern wench. Her hair was flaming red, but in the light of the inn, it could almost be auburn. She was slim, though her hips flared out. Sandor had to give her credit for being fearless enough to sit in his lap, and attempt to look at his burnt face without flinching. Or perhaps she was just stupid, or that ambitious and hopeful for a gold dragon. However, he was too down in his cups to care.

"Enjoying yourself," he heard a voice say in an icy tone. Sandor smirked and turned to lazily look at his wolf-bitch. She was pissed, he knew it from her tone. His eyes skimmed over her slim legs. She wore a pair of black leggins, that were strapped tight over her well muscled but thin legs. She had a pair of light leather boots strapped to her feet and wore a brown leather jerkin, that with the help of the wrappings that bound her chest beneath it, made her look like she had no teats.

From the way she dressed, it was hard to tell whether she was still rather androgynous, despite the waist-length chestnut hair. However, her face had grown decidedly more feminine over the years. Although, people seemed to take her for an incredibly feminine looking male.

Arya's eyes were narrowed on him. If looks could burn, she would be burning him alive with her stone-grey eyes. He knew she hated him. For too many more reasons than he could count or care to count. He wasn't quite sure why she stayed with him... he supposed because she had nowhere else to go. Yes there was Winterfell, which had been rebuilt and under the rule of her brother Bran, the new King of the North, but she wouldn't go back there. Not with Ser Gendry there.

"Whose your friend? If he's going to join us, it will cost more," the girl in his lap stated, to which he couldn't help giving a bark of laughter. Though, it was a hollow laugh. His eyes became clouded as his lips twisted into a snarl as he thought of Ser Gendry. Sandor wasn't sure who he hated more, his brother or that bastard of Robert's.

_Wait, where you goin? _

_I'm leavin' you_

_No you ain't, come back,_

_We're running right back_

Arya merely turned and ran up the stairs. When she came back down, she had her pack. Immediately, Sandor got to his feet, dumping the wench on his lap unceremoniously onto the floor. He was drunk, and barely managed not to wobble on his feet, but despite it all, he managed to reach Arya's wrist and grip it tight before she managed to get through the door. "And where the hell do you think you're going?" he roared at her, tugging at her so roughly that she bumped into him. However, he was unconcerned. Though Arya was slim and looked small, she was always a tough and fierce little thing.

"Home. Even seeing him with her is better than staying here with you!" she spat, pulling one of her many knives on him. He cursed under his breath the fact that the little whelp was left-handed.

Sandor gnashed his teeth. "You better intend to use that, if not, you best put it away," Sandor grit out, his eyes flashing dangerously.

He'd been traveling with Arya for just over a year now. He'd come across her in a tavern near Winterfell. She'd been making her way back home after spending years in Braavos, and doing 'odd' jobs.

Winterfell hadn't been long back in the hands of a Stark, and was little more than in shambles, though heavy reconstruction was underway. However, with the tenuous peace over Westero's... the Stark children felt safe enough to come out of hiding and reclaim what was theirs. Arya would be the last to return home. It had taken her months to manage it. But she never made it home.

Just out of Winterfell she heard the news that Sansa would be marrying a Knight named Gendry, known by many others as the Bull and so that night she had found herself at the same inn as the Hound, intending to drink away the sorrow of it. Or maybe hoping ale would wash the bitter taste of betrayal from her mouth.

Gendry was hers. Arya wasn't sure when she had started to think of him that way, but she knew it was the way she had always felt. At one point, she had considered him a member of her pack. When she heard the news of his impending nuptials to her sister, she realized that somewhere, her childish heart had always nestled the hope that she would see him again, and he would return to her pack, but not like this. That had killed the last innocence of her heart; all the innocence that had been left after having been ravished since the time she was little.

Sandor was aware of this all, though she'd never explicitly told him. Arya wasn't his in her heart, anymore than Sansa was. They were both _Ser Gendry's_. And the knowledge of it left a taste much like blood in his mouth. Only that was more tolerable.

_You ever love somebody so much, _

_You could barely breathe when you're with em'_

_You meet and neither one of you, even knew what hit 'em_

_Got that warm fuzzy feelin', yeah, them chills, used to get 'em_

That first meeting in that tavern all those years ago, he'd been able to hold her in his arms. Her tiny waist in his hands. Her soft skin beneath his fingertips. The small but pert mounds pressed against his chest. Her warmth, wrapped tightly around his girth as she rode him wildly.

He didn't care at the time why she did it. All he could think of, was how breath-takingly beautiful she was underneath her clothes, with the silky strands of her long hair falling like a curtain against her smooth skin. She was Lady Lyanna come again, Sandor could see it; though he'd never been interested in Lyanna Stark... she had been beautiful though.

Even then at that moment, Sandor knew he was unworthy. No one else was able to see her true beauty like this, and that was because that was how Arya wanted it. However, she had to be aware that she was as beautiful as her aunt had been known to be. He thought he was slightly sick... to fall in love with her because she would stoop to make love to him. He supposed he was just a sucker for pretty things that were out of his reach.

_Now you're gettin' fuckin' sick of lookin' at 'em_

_You swore you'd never hit 'em, never do nothin' to hurt 'em_

_Now you're in each other's face, spewing venom in your words when you spit 'em_

_You push, pull each other's hair, scratch, claw, bit 'em_

_Throw 'em down, pin 'em, so lost in the moment when you're in 'em_

_It's the rage that took over, it controls you both_

Arya's hand was trembling as she held the knife to his neck as she glared at him. The blade was pressing into his skin, but that didn't matter. She was staring into his murky gaze, wondering where he had gone inside. She bit her lip as she thought... and finally deciding he was probably thinking about Sansa, she took the blade away but hit him with the pummel upside his temple.

Soon as she felt him loosen his grip, she tugged her hand away. Sandor couldn't stop her as his head was swimming with the blow. He even felt himself stagger and had to clench the nearest table to stabilize himself. By the time he was able to get outside, she'd saddled her mare.

Unconsciously, he drew his sword from his hilt, and when she started to race towards him, he side stepped and hacked at the mares neck. He was unconcerned whether Arya manged to jump off the mare before it came crashing down; more due to the alcohol and ringing in his head, than to lack of concern for her safety.

Staggering to his feet, he strode over to where she was huddled and grabbed her by the arm and roughly wrenched her to her feet and shoved her against the tree nearest them. He was barely aware of the grunt she gave when her back hit the rough bark, or the way her head bounced from hitting the tree. "You stupid little bitch," he barked, holding his temple even as she rubbed the back of her head. "What do you thinks gonna happen when you show up? That he'll simply leave the little bird and take you up in his clumsy, smith arms?" he roared.

Arya concentrated through the blurriness in her eyes and started to beat futilely against him. Though she was not weak, she wasn't strong enough for her fists to do anything more than cause him a small amount of soreness. If anything, it hurt and bruised her fist more considering he still wore chain mail beneath his jerkin. Didn't help matters that the blow to her head from the tree had weakened her motor-skill somewhat.

"You stupid!" Arya screamed. "Sansa can have Gendry! But any other man would be better than you! I hate you! I should've have killed you all those years ago when I had the chance!"

Sandor grit his teeth as he pulled away from her. "Than do it," he grit out. Arya stopped and tried to focus her eyes on him, brow furrowed. She flinched when he reached for her sword and pulled it from its scabbard and handed it to her, hilt first. "Do it," he commanded, stripping off his jerkin when she took the sword, before pulling off his mail from underneath.

Arya stood, leaning against the tree, the sword held weakly in her hand as she stared at him, disbelievingly. "What are you doing?" she asked, staring at him bewildered.

"Do it, its what you want. Kill me," he growled, letting himself fall to his knees.

Dazedly, Arya straightened up and moved away from the tree. As she stepped towards him, he dropped his head, like any prisoner would for a beheading.

Her heart thundered so hard in her chest. She felt as though time had slowed as she stood over him. Like many times before in her life, she felt the intoxicating high of knowing another humans life was in her hands... that she held the power over their future. She could decide if there were to be one, or not.

Staring down at his dark head, she clenched the hilt of the sword more tightly. Her head swam with memories. Bitter ones, where the yelled at each other like snarling, snapping dogs. She smirked to think of it, her heart clenching painfully. She wanted to kill him, she did, that would have made everything so much easier and yet...

She dropped the sword just as she fell to her knees before him. Sandor looked up, his eyes glistening and red-rimmed. It wasn't the first time he'd cry before her. Belatedly, she realized tears were racing down her own cheeks as her eyes met his; though she never made a sound.

And than their lips were crashing against each other. Her arms were wrapped so tightly around his neck, she knew that he would have a hard time breathing, just as herself from the way that his strong arms wrapped so tightly around her waist, and pressed her chest so tightly against his own; it constricted her lungs.

_Now I know we said things, did things that we didn't mean_

_And we fall back into the same pattern, same routine_

_But your temper's just as bad as mine is, you're the same as me_

_When it comes to love you're just as blinded_

"I love you," Sandor murmured as he trailed kisses down her smooth neck later that night, as her legs wrapped tight around his waist and urged him on.

Arya closed her eyes and ignored the pain she felt in his chest. It wasn't the first time he said it, he said it every time they lay in bed, wrapped in each other. However, she was never sure if he said it to her, or if in his head she was her sister, and he was saying it to Sansa. But Arya always ignored the pain and chose to focus on the pleasure he could bring as he thrust roughly between her legs. She liked it best that way, rough.

_Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems_

_Maybe thats what happens when a tornado meets a volcano_

_All I know is I love you too much to walk away though_

"I'm sorry,"Arya whispered, when he fell asleep later. Through he was asleep, his arms were clenched hard around her, and whether she liked it or not, he kept her pinned to his chest, curled up against his side, and left no room for her to wiggle.

"What for?" he said, opening one eye to look at her. Arya felt a flush crawl up her neck and cursed herself. How could she forget he was not a sound sleeper, and woke at the slightest provocation? She'd thought he was drunk enough to pass out this night. Thought she supposed perhaps what happened earlier that night, the alcohol had simply burned out of his system.

Arya bit on her lip as she looked away and traced her fingers over his heavily scarred arm. The burns never bothered her much. "For what I said earlier, I'm glad I didn't kill you. You just make me so angry," she said, not being able to say something in her defense for the nasty things she said to him.

Sandor chuckled, that bark of a laugh that both made her angry and made her stomach feel warm. "Guess that makes us even, pup," he stated, nuzzling his nose in her hair. It smelled of the earth, yet fresh and clean, like crisp pines and snow. "Never. NEVER, try to leave me again," he stated, his voice muffled by her hair.

Arya bit her lip and snuggled deeper into his chest. "Don't you ever think this is too much, Sandor?" She asked, sitting up. The blanket over her, fell from her body, but her long hair made a decent attempt at veiling her torso and teats from view. For a moment, Sandor was too distracted to hear what she had said, by the lovely view. How had he gotten such a beautiful woman into his bed, willingly and without having to pay for her?

"What's too much?" he snapped.

"This," she said, motioning between the two of them with her slim and delicate hand. Despite all the years of work and training and fighting, her hands had remained soft. Amazingly so. "All the fighting. We're both too volatile. One day one of us-"

_If she ever tries to fuckin' leave again, I'ma tie her to the bed_

_And set this house on fire_

Sandor reached up and pulled her so their lips met softly. "I know," he stated, his voice gruff and his breath hot against her face when he pulled away. "But I can't live without you, Arya Stark," he said, keeping his eyes closed and his voice tight for fear of rejection. The silliness of it made him want to bark in laughter out of bitterness. She had slept with him hundreds and perhaps even thousands of times... and he was still afraid of her rejecting him. "I won't live without you," he said, snapping his eyes open and looking at her fiercely. "So if you ever plan to leave me, you better kill me first, or I'll kill you."

Arya knew that most women would be frightened by this. Though she thought perhaps some women, incredibly stupid women, might find it terribly romantic. But she only had one thing to say to this, so she smiled. "_Valar morghulis_, all men must die."

"Does that mean you're going to kill me?" he asked gruffly and unamused. Arya rolled her eyes and smacked his arm lightly.

"I don't plan on leaving," she snapped impatiently. The hound smirked.

"Does that mean the Princess of Winterfell is mine?" he barked in laughter as he saw her predictably raise her hand to smack him, undoubtedly quite hard this time. However, he caught her wrist gently and pulled her so she was on top of him and once more crashed his lips to her. Thought she tried to resist him, he knew that only made her hotter... fighting always seemed to. That was because Arya Stark was all warrior, through and through. The Hound loved that.

_**~Fin~**_

**A/n:** Well that was my story. Hope it was enjoyable. Please review!


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